


Widowmaker's Secret Surprise

by OculusDrake



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Big Ass, Bomb, Bomb Girl, Booty, Exhibitionism, F/F, Seduction, ass worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 16:20:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8807668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OculusDrake/pseuds/OculusDrake
Summary: Finally, after a long time, due to a blundered operation by Talon, Tracer and a reformed Overwatch capture the feared sniper Widowmaker.  However, it seems that Widowmaker actually wanted to be captured...





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first time posting a smut on AO3, or anything on this site for that matter. Let me know what you think in the comments, please?

Inside the secret compound of the resurged Overwatch, Widowmaker turned a bit in her cell.

Hours earlier, Widowmaker and a squad of Talon troops were in a holdout in Budapest, and though the battle was tough, the entire squadron was neutralized. Widowmaker, formerly Amelie Lacroix, Talon’s top assassin, was captured and taken in for interrogation…and a possible reversal of brainwashing. Truth be told, they probably should have killed her, as any attempt to reverse Talon’s works upon her would be impossible.

Besides, the Talon operation was built to fail. Though the other troops were unaware of this, and gave their lives unknowing of the greater cause they served, Widowmaker was meant to be captured. Why else would the information be leaked to Lena Oxton, alias Tracer, the woman who obviously dearly cared for Amelie?

Because, unbeknownst to them, Talon wanted Widowmaker to be taken by Overwatch, alive. Recently, there’d been a…modification to her body. A very special, and very dangerous modification.

Widowmaker felt a trigger release inside of her massive, plush behind. Keen-eyed observers might notice that Widowmaker’s ass was even bigger and rounder than it normally was, stretching her tight bodysuit a little more than it usually did. They’d taken away her weapons, of course, her trusty rifle chief among them, along with her infravision goggles. They left her in her tight, sensual bodysuit. After all, it was far too tight to effectively conceal anything. And Tracer so loved to stare at that utterly huge backside as it sashayed back and forth within that sensual bodysuit that so hugged her curves. In truth, Widowmaker kind of enjoyed the attention. She knew she was a beautiful woman, and if it made other women stare, then all the better.

They were right that the bodysuit couldn’t conceal anything. They were wrong about Widowmaker’s own body. And especially about that huge ass that Lena…no, that Tracer so loved.

After that catch released, Widowmaker felt it. The inevitable countdown to her, and everyone in this building – more than that, everyone in the entire compound’s demise.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Widowmaker’s massive ass was hosting a bomb. A special kind, created by Talon, completely undetectable, and seeming just like more of Widowmaker’s delectable assflesh to any sort of scanner, but extremely powerful even in small amounts. With the size of her ass? The explosion could only be utterly huge.

Widowmaker was a bomb. And she was going to explode in under ten minutes.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

In truth, the entire situation was just a little arousing to her. For some reason, she didn’t know why, she felt a little buzzing sensation in her nethers, her thick, womanly thighs pressing together as she felt that buzz. Was that the ticking?

No, that was something else – oh my. Clearly, Talon wanted her to enjoy her final mission, she thought with a wicked grin.

Getting her way out of the cell was child’s play, especially when the woman in charge of guarding her proved to have a weakness for women with massive asses. She bent over, wiggling a bit, hoping that the guard wouldn’t hear the steady tick tick tick that was sounding in rhythm with shaking her huge ass. She pled that no, she was just a victim, that she was forced unto all this by Talon, that she was really Amelie, she said so, please…

What an idiot that girl was, unlocking her cage for naught more than a kiss from a girl who was ticking down to oblivion. Eight minutes now, and she was going to go off like the biggest firework anyone had ever seen.

Tick…Tick...Tick

She could feel it, that vibration growing steadily more intense as she pushed herself further, closer and closer to that final detonation, as she pressed her lips to those of the foolish guardswoman, feeling the woman’s hands reaching around to squeeze her huge, ticking behind…She felt the girl hesitate, feeling the tick-tick-ticking coming from within her. She put an azure finger to the girl’s lips when she was about to ask, giving a wry smile, and walking away, her wide, womanly hips sashaying back and forth along with that tick tick tick as she walked away, the guard mesmerized by her movements.  
Seven minutes, she thought, as she entered a main hallway, where a couple of Overwatch agents blinked in confusion as she stepped forward. She was unarmed, but they were tense and expected a fight…which is why they were so confused when she simply winked at them, turned her big ticking behind towards them, and started to begin a lovely, sensual dance that placed quite a lot of emphasis on the undulations of her hips, and most of all her fat ass, that ticking timer providing a rhythm for her movements.

Tick…Tick…Tick...

It was still quiet, but Widowmaker could feel it getting louder, and louder. Inefficient, she thought, coldly. Why even put this ticking in – Nn~! She thought, realizing the last part she said aloud as she bucked her hips against the vibrator, a bit. Oh fuck, it really was getting more, and more intense, and she was drawing more and more attention from the Overwatch agents. But not hostile attention, this time, no, they were quite enjoying the show, watching this beautiful, curvaceous woman undulating her lovely body, just for them, her hands exploring herself as she bucked her hips, bending over again to fascinated stares. One of them even tried to join her on stage, but she shot her a glare, a glare that said look, but don’t touch.

A minute into Widowmaker’s practiced routine, she spotted a surprised face in the audience, and one she recognized all too well, especially in that garish orange she loved so much.  
Tracer, she thought, and her lips curled into a wicked smile. And with five minutes to spare.

She stopped her dance, slightly jittery in her movements as the buzzing from the device between her legs showed no sign of abating, but moving into her practiced smoothness as she blew Tracer a kiss. Tracer, of course, blushed a bright red. Is this a dream? she thought, thinking back to her numerous lonely nights, thinking of that woman’s slender, oh so dexterous fingers running through her hair, as they ground against one another, before that woman reached lower, lower, touching her in the most lovely and private of places…

But this was no dream. Widowmaker felt all too real as she stepped forward, her heels clicking against the metal floor as her violet lips curled into an inviting, predatory smile. Tracer couldn’t help but be reminded of the sweet scent of some carnivorous plant, luring innocent bugs to their doom with promises of succulent flowers.

Though her instincts told her to run, Tracer stepped forward, so entranced she was by her rival’s – and once, her crush’s – movements that she could not look away. Her eyes couldn’t help but drop to Widowmaker’s wide, feminine hips…were those wider than she remembered? That felt rather odd. Still, when Widowmaker offered her hand in a silent invitation to join her on the impromptu stage…well, how could she do anything but accept, taking Widowmaker’s hand?

Widowmaker accepted Tracer’s hand with a wink, pulling Tracer to her, pushing her down into a chair she had prepared, to the cheers of the captive audience behind her – silenced with another icy stare. When she drew close, Tracer blinked in confusion – oh, she heard it.

Tick…Tick…Tick

Four minutes left, Widowmaker thought to herself. 4 minutes until kaboom, and only one person even suspected what was going to happen happen, and she was immediately distracted when Widowmaker straddled her thighs with her own, pressing her lips to Tracer’s, feeling the warmth of her body, the one thing Widowmaker truly missed from when she was Amelie…

Oh well. She’d be feeling the heat in a quite different way, all too soon, feeling the ticking getting louder, and louder as she ground against Tracer, her thighs pushing together, letting out a moan quite beyond what one would expect from one just grinding against someone. Oh god, she needed more, more, before she detonated in a glorious explosion. Tracer herself gasped as Widowmaker tore her own tight skinsuit off, her bare, azure breasts bared as she cried out, pushing herself forward.

Tracer understood what she was to do, her mouth closing around one puffy, purple nipple, tongue starting to work at it, her teeth scraping lightly against it as she wrapped her hands around, squeezing the big behind that she’d been staring at since before Amelie’s kidnapping, that girl had always had such a big, round behind that she couldn’t help but stare.

And now it was straddling her hips, her hands reaching up to squeeze her big, soft ass. Maybe she’d been doing squats, she thought briefly, before the feel of Widowmaker’s cold body against her excited her, both of their movements growing more and more erratic as the ticking she felt coming from that massive – exposed now, as Tracer had pulled the last vestiges of Widowmaker’s bodysuit off, so that all that was left was clinging to her legs – ass grew louder and stronger, almost making Widowmaker’s ass jiggle- 

Wait a minute. Ticking? She released Widowmaker’s nipple, about to ask what that was, when Widowmaker silenced her with a kiss, again. Tracer, so often talkative and whimsical, was rendered completely speechless in such a situation. She paused again, having trepidation over the situation, but melted into her partner’s cold embrace. That must have been it, those vibrations were shivers. I mean, it wasn’t like there was a bomb inside Widowmaker’s massive ass.

But there was, and Widowmaker knew it, barely two minutes remaining on the clock before the final, fiery detonation. She needed more, more from Tracer, the vibrator still not enough for her. She pushed Tracer down, off the chair, onto the floor, planting that massive bomb of a booty right on her face, to the point that Tracer could practically feel the vibrations of the ticking timer herself, but what could she do? Widowmaker had her completely at her mercy…

At this point, the ticking was getting loud enough that even the audience could hear it, so powerful it was it made that ass quiver a little with each tick…tick…tick of that time bomb. They were whispering among themselves, wondering about that. Bomb? said an all-too numerous number of voices, suspecting correctly that something was deeply wrong, and that Amelie wasn’t just giving them the show for their own benefit…but surely the bomb wasn’t onstage, there’d be nowhere to hide it…

Widowmaker bucked her wide hips against Tracer’s clever tongue, riding her with all her might, grinding her oh so wet lips against her face, feeling the tongue slipping inside her, a finger reaching up to tickle her most sensitive spot as she tick..tick..TICKed, louder and louder, one minute, oh god yes, she needed this, she needed to cum, feeling herself closer and closer, as she was drawn to the edge. “Yes, yes, do this, do it before I EXPLODE!!” she shouted with another arch of her back.

There was mass panic at Widowmaker’s words, “Explode?” one woman said. “Wait, that’s impossible, unless…”

Tracer, too was coming to the realization, fighting to try to get out from under Widowmaker’s massive ass, but Widowmaker demanded attention by her very presence, and there was no way to stop her when she wanted something. But Tracer knew.

Widowmaker was a bomb. She didn’t know how, or why, but Widowmaker was a ticking time bomb that was about to explode…and take her with her! She couldn’t see, smothered as she was by that beautiful bodacious behind, that huge TICKING as…

Tick.

TICK.

TICK…

Widowmaker laughed wickedly and wildy as she bucked her hips, close, close she was to cumming, close she was to exploding, she could even see a little number in the corner of her eye, going down with each second. She knew what it was. What was going to happen.

Five.

Widowmaker cried out again, “Yes, YES! Make me EXPLODE!” as she writhed against Tracer’s clever tongue.

Four.

The people ran amok, running every this way and that, a futile attempt to escape their explosive fate.

Three.

Tracer herself was fingering herself just as Widowmaker rode her face, sure she could teleport out of here at the last second – she knew she was deluding herself. There was no way to stop this.

Two.

Widowmaker let out one final, glorious moan of pleasure and orgasm, her juices spilling out of her, and over Tracer’s face, giving her a lovely last meal as her juices dripped, her body quaking in a rapturous orgasm right as the timer hit –

One.

Zero.

“Adieu, cherie.”

And with that, Widowmaker exploded. A massive cacophony of flames erupted from her hips, consuming the entire Overwatch base…then the entire city block, and then most of the neighborhood, reduced to naught but a smoking crater in a colossal

KA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!

A singed lock of violet hair was the only proof she ever existed.


End file.
